NOVEMBER 1822
Nestling beside volcanic Mount Vesuvius, Naples overlooks a picturesque bay with golden beaches and azure waters. But the Long Wellesleys did not have the opportunity to enjoy the enchanting scenery as the weather was bitterly cold when they arrived. Paying little heed to Lord Maryborough’s plea for strict economy, William rented a splendid suite of rooms at the Cappella Vecchia in Piazza dei Martiri, one of the most elegant locations in the town. Many English high rollers lived in Naples at the time, so naturally William wanted to set himself up in style. He hired cooks, maids, grooms and a family physician called Dr Thomas Bulkeley. The doctor was a tall, stout, well-groomed gentleman, who sported a jet-black beard styled with a sharp point at the end. His devilish appearance was deceiving – he was a mild, courteous, amiable man.1 During the Peninsular War he had served as surgeon to the 9th Regiment, where he became renowned for his humanity, often rushing forward in battle to assist the wounded at great personal risk.2
The Long Wellesley family kept the good doctor busy. Young Will had contracted a severe chest infection after accidentally falling into Lake Geneva; James fell off a horse and broke his arm; little Victoria was severely run-down from the journey; Catherine was being treated for her nerves; and William was suffering from a troublesome eye infection. Bulkeley was very accommodating, attending to his patients at all hours of the day and night. In return, Mr Long Wellesley paid the doctor handsomely, rewarding him with gifts of fine cigars and wine.
Dr Bulkeley was full of admiration for Mrs Long Wellesley, who remained sweetly composed and dignified despite all her woes. In an age without antibiotics, every minor childhood illness induced fear and Catherine kept vigil at the bedsides of her children, nursing them through the day and night. She worried that a bout of measles or whooping cough might sweep through her household, claiming her three children in a matter of weeks. She knew many women who had watched helplessly as babes died in their arms, including all three of William’s sisters. James’s broken arm caused concern but she was especially anxious about Victoria who was so feverish and weak that her lovely blonde curls dropped out in clumps. Eventually her hair was so sparse that Catherine had no option but to shave it all off. Afterwards she tended it carefully, massaging balms into her daughter’s scalp until her hair grew back thick and strong. Later in life, Victoria attributed her abundance of lustrous curls to her mother’s care at this time.3
Catherine stayed in close contact with her sisters, her letters filled with news about her children. Her correspondence was that of a devoted wife and mother.4 In return her sisters sent treats from home, with Dora writing, ‘Here is Moore’s Almanack. It must be very uncomfortable to be so long without an English almanac! We will get Peacock’s and send it as soon as we can.’5 Shortly after her arrival in Naples, Catherine’s spirits lifted when she received promising news from her sister Dora concerning her mother’s health:
Dear Mamma is poorly. But I trust nothing that need alarm us at present. We think, however, she certainly has rather a tendency to dropsy, her legs being so swollen and weak. But she has no pain anywhere, the bile is quite recovered and she begins to eat again with more enjoyment and is in good spirits.6
Catherine was relieved to hear that her mother was getting better and she was touched by her sister’s thoughtful gifts. Their parcels had grown even more frequent and Catherine found the little gestures very comforting. But just a few weeks later, her peace of mind was shattered yet again when she received bad news. Her beloved mother was no more – Lady Catherine was dead.
Lady Catherine had dedicated her life to benevolence and many grateful people mourned her loss. Stacks of condolences poured in for the Miss Longs, and numerous epitaphs appeared in the press. One newspaper recorded:
Lady Catherine Tylney Long may, assuredly, be considered to have been one of the highest ornaments of the age in which she lived. She was distinguished by her sweetness of temper, mildness of demeanour, her love of domestic life, and her almost unparalleled benevolence.7
In another paper the following notice appeared:
The loss of this excellent lady will long be deplored by all who had the honour of her acquaintance, but by none more than the poor of her neighbourhood, to whom she was a very munificent benefactress.8
It was a great pity that the final years of Lady Catherine’s life had been filled with such sadness: the family fortune dissipated, her precious daughter living in exile and her grandchildren running around like wild animals. Dora and Emma were party to this grief, stoically caring for their mother and nursing her themselves. Catherine regretted deeply that she had not returned to England to visit her mother one last time. She wasted no time in writing to her sisters, expressing ‘heartfelt pain at hearing the sad, sad news, that our excellent mother is no more. This is indeed a trial, but we must bear it with fortitude and resignation. It is the will of God, and we must submit.’9
In her letter, Catherine was full of praise for William, demonstrating that despite all that had happened, she was still mesmerized by him. She wrote:
I have received the greatest kindness and affection from Mr L. W. No human creature could have been so kind, or shown greater feeling upon the sad occasion, than he has done. I saw a most kind letter he wrote yesterday to Lord Maryborough, in which he desires him strictly to attend to your wishes in everything.10
This was rather naive on Catherine’s part, considering the fact that William had such a long history of treating her sisters shabbily. He had never shown any inclination whatsoever of attending to their wishes. William was a convincing liar and the sisters protected her from the truth, so perhaps Catherine was not aware of the extent of the bad feeling between them. In this instance, William felt magnanimous in offering the sisters use of either Draycot House or Seagry House despite the fact that both of these properties belonged to Catherine.
Catherine mourned the loss of her mother sorely. On the surface, William appeared to be sympathetic to his wife and concerned for her sisters, who were now homeless. Secretly, he was elated because Lady Catherine’s passing meant that her various annuities ceased. In addition, under the terms of the marriage settlement, part of Lady Catherine’s allowance reverted to Catherine, who could now claim a further £3,500. Perhaps this was to reimburse Catherine for the annuities she had settled on Dora and Emma. As a result, Catherine’s pin money was restored to the original amount of £11,000 (minus the £500 paid to Maria Kinnaird).11 William was quick to write to his father and trustee, Lord Maryborough, to find out what financial benefit he could personally gain from the death. He hoped to be able to cut off the entail and get his hands on Draycot House. Efficient as ever, his father replied by return:
Mr Wright will go to Draycot in a few days and he will take the Misses Long’s pleasure as to Draycot House and Seagry. The Home Farm is, I believe, in very good order, and it is now in our possession, paying well – we shall have no difficulty in doing everything respecting Draycot, which you have deemed.12
Although Catherine was delighted by her husband’s generosity and consideration for her sisters, Dora was suspicious and not so easily swayed. She sent William a cordial reply:
My sister and I beg to offer you our best thanks for your kindness. But we decline your obliging proposals with a thousand thanks, as it is our intention to be travelling about for some time. There are many places we have never seen & we think it, as yet, too early days to fix our residence anywhere.13
Dora did not trust William; she worried that he would intimidate Catherine, forcing her to sign over Draycot House. Once this was done, he could sell off all the Long family’s heirlooms, just as he had disposed of the Tylney treasures at Wanstead. She wrote to Bartholomew Bouverie for clarification, and the charitable gentleman wrote back to her immediately to put her mind at rest:
I do assure you . . . it is quite impossible that your sister can have cut off the entail of Draycot . . . All the Long Estates are in strict settlement on your sister’s children, then on yourselves, and your children. This entail must continue till a son of your sister’s comes of age, and then, they may together cut it off . . . Should your sister die before her husband, he has not even a life interest in Draycot, and those Estates. They pass immediately to his son.14
William’s disregard for Lady Catherine was well known; his selfishness had deprived her of her final wish to see her grandchildren one last time. Unfailingly candid, Bouverie went on to criticize William for being two-faced: ‘I hate all humbug, and it would have been far better, had Mr Long Wellesley, after all his inattention to your mother, avoided any empty profession of that sort.’15
The trustees were doing everything in their power to resolve William’s affairs. Lord Maryborough was trying to find a tenant for Wanstead House but this was not a viable proposition because running costs were astronomical, well above the means of most people. In addition, the mansion was now just a vast, empty shell, stripped of all its treasures. Nobody could afford to move in and furnish the huge building; the curtains and carpets alone would cost an absolute fortune. Earl Tylney’s pleasure palace was too big and ostentatious to maintain.
Merrick Shawe had more disappointing news for William: the deal to sell timber had fallen through due to clauses in the Tynley family wills. William already knew that Wanstead House was protected – according to his marriage settlement, it could not be sold. In addition, he discovered that Sir Josiah’s walnut groves plus the magnificent avenues of elms and sweet chestnuts were safeguarded due to a legal clause stating that trees within sight of the house could not be felled.
Catherine had always owned Draycot House, but an agreement was in place allowing her mother to reside there throughout her lifetime. Now that Lady Catherine was dead, Draycot House reverted to Catherine. This meant that Wanstead House was surplus to William’s requirements and he was prepared to sell it for whatever price he could get. A terrible plan formed in his head. Although he did not have the power to sell Wanstead House, there was a legal loophole. No document was in place to prevent him from simply knocking down the building. William decided he would demolish the beautifully crafted Palladian mansion and sell the bricks for scrap. Once the house was gone, all the ornamental timber could be disposed of too. Undoubtedly it would be desecration of the highest order, but he was determined to realize his assets at any cost. William instructed his trustees to proceed with this brutal course of action. Catherine was still mourning for her mother when William broke the bad news. He insisted there was no other option – Wanstead House would have to be razed to the ground.